The Inner Monologue of one Motorcycle Blogger

The Inner Monologue of one Motorcycle Blogger

It’s been a few months now since I set off on a road trip through the Virginias. In the time that has passed, I’ve struggled to put together posts to talk about what I saw. And that isn’t because I didn’t see anything worth writing about. It’s something different that I wrestle with episodically.

As my mindset fluctuates, the way that I approach writing about my time does too. But, I find that I’m often stuck in the same old pattern of trying to write about life in the “old way.” My robotic response is to work linearly on a timeline in medium-sized chunks. But, thoughts don’t always happen that way, do they?

For a while, I was especially rigid about timing. If I’d ridden somewhere 2 months ago and didn’t write about it then? Well, it was too late. There was some imaginary freshness calendar that had to be adhered to otherwise I wasn’t allowed to write about it. Isn’t that strange that I could be so particular about something like that? I’ve gotten over that, mostly.

What I’m learning is that trying to make my thoughts fit into a predefined size or shape is a recipe for disaster. Instead of an easy-to-follow formula that allows me to just plug in the pictures and words, I end up with a cramp. The result? Nothing.

My thoughts are scattered like dandelion seeds and are constantly floating away from me. Why can’t I share them here in that way? Little idea whisps that sail on a current – their barbs getting stuck on the people that want to read them. That’s how things like Instagram work. Everything is shared in snack-sized bites.

Why do I resign myself to thinking that I have to make blog posts lengthy? Why do I feel the pressure to write about my time in a particular way, as if there is some correct method to blogging? Why do I censor sharing my interests because I think other people are sick of reading about them? Why would I care if someone else thinks I post too much or too little? Why can’t a picture be worth a thousand words when I do it here? So many rules. But why?

We each develop a personal process to produce the things that matter to us. I feel that when I doodle in my sketchbook, too. When I deviate from my natural process, things feel off. To the viewer, the end result probably doesn’t look any different but I know something isn’t right. But how does the process grow when you’re so busy following the old rules?

I’ve always maintained that I write my blog first and foremost for myself. It is my system of record for thoughts and feelings about moving through the world on a motorcycle. But that must be a lie I tell myself. There is a nagging undercurrent of the need to please others or fitting into preconceived notions about what they want from me. Approaching this blog from the outside in is when things go wrong. You’d think I’d have fully understood and embraced that by now. I mean, I know that so why does the need for a reminder keep bubbling up to the surface?

 

7 Replies to “The Inner Monologue of one Motorcycle Blogger”

  1. I think this is all “normal” we all tend to put too much pressure on ourself about how things should be. And yes the blog is for you, write whatever you like, I enjoy hearing it, it reminds me of myself when I am riding.

  2. Not being a writer, just a reader, I so very much look forward to your blog. You are able to capture so many emotions, inject humor and creativity into your posts. Sometimes I think the pressure we put on ourselves is what keeps us sharp. Always looking to be better/fluid. I believe artists are the hardest critics of their own work.

  3. I have been thinking about this for quite a while.

    Lately I have been creating dual blog+vlog posts. That dual process is leading me to some very tentative conclusions. But it’s still very, very early, my perception in a year or two may be very different.

    For now I think that primarily, it’s about the story. Not when it happened, just the story. The better the story, the more compelling the post. The sharper the prose, injecting humor, twists, turns, fresh points of view, insight, irony, the better the story will be.

    The second dimension is the narrator, the story teller, and in the video version, the host, the actor, the talent.

    In the end I think that what really keeps people coming back is the person. The more you learn about the person that comes through the lines of the story, or the frames of the video, the more there is a kind of strange compelling friendship. Providing of course that the person is appealing. Otherwise…

    It’s odd because we’ve never met. I keep coming back here because, in the end, I want to get to know you better, as a person, as a fellow artist.

  4. Valuable introspection. Since you acknowledge the blog is for you, do it your way. And that’s whatever works for you. There’s no need to be chronological or tied to time. Much good art plays with time, with devices like flashbacks, to permit reflection that arrives long after an event.

  5. I am only interested in reading the writings of people who write with total honesty. That’s all I am interested in reading. Nothing else.

    And having written my own material in various formats, I know how incredibly difficult it is to write honestly. In my view, honesty in writing separates the great writers from the pulp.

    I think you write with much honesty. I hope you will continue to do so.

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